Our Lives
by Bluestarshine
Summary: His love was golden, he often pictured her as such. He was not. He was not deserving of her but he loved her still, and allowed her to love him despite all that he was, for she was a peace, a light, that such a man as he had only dreamt of.


**Disclaimer: Homeland is copyright to Howard Gordon, Alex Gansa and Gideon Raff. I claim nothing. No copyright infringement is intended and no money is being made.**

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His love was golden, he often pictured her as such.

The beads of sweat run down his forehead like blood trickling down from a fresh, fleshy, wound to the body.

His body is rigid, straight, like he cannot move, cannot breathe, and he almost cannot. The restraints which bind his body, hidden underneath garments of clothing, a uniform he believes that he does not deserve to wear, feel as though they are cutting into his skin, tearing at his ribs, like they are cutting the flesh, breaking the bones, so that sharp hands may reach inside and squeeze his heart.

His heart beats so strongly in his chest that he believes it may be the death of him, before he presses the trigger.

His hands stay stiffly by his side, because he cannot place them anywhere else.

He stands still while his mind wanders.

It takes him to places he dreams of, places he has been before but never will be again, places where he feels a peace he only ever dreamt of.

Peace was something he believed untrue, unreachable, unreal, but with her it is real, together they reach peace, they find it, it consumes them and they bask in its glory and light.

Brody recalls the light being soft, and warm, as they rested by the waterside, his head on her shoulder, his hands fallen around her waist, tugging her towards him, holding her as tightly as he could.

This was for her, these were the words he repeatedly told himself.

He was panicking. His breathing was deepening, his vision was blurring, his hands were sweating profusely that he was afraid someone would notice.

But he was alone, so he could not yet be noticed.

He was in a tiny cubicle, a bathroom only a few feet wide, standing before a mirror examining himself.

He held the appearance of a normal man, an average man, there was nothing different about him, nothing that may catch the attention of another.

But appearances are almost always deceiving, and Nicholas Brody was a deceiver.

He had tried to be true to himself, but he had lost himself so very long ago that he wasn't entirely sure who he was and how he would begin to be true to himself, begin to admit all that he had done, begin to allow himself to feel all that he had shut off those years ago.

He was true to her, because of her, and he would be true with her always.

She was real to him.

He could hold her, touch her cheek, feel her in his arms and against his chest.

He was doing this for her, not for _him._

Brody was determined that he was done, done with the man who had destroyed him, done with this life for he would not be alive come the soft orange sunset of the afternoon.

He had no choice.

Brody had been forced into this, forced to wear an explosive vest around his chest as he was forced earlier – but this time it was different.

Nicholas Brody was not in control of the trigger this time.

He was warned, if he dare try to remove the vest he would die. This thought did not terrify Brody, it did not cause him fear as it would cause others, but the next words which had passed Nazir's lips did cause him fear, and panic, and such terror that he would almost agree to anything.

He was told that Carrie would be captured, and killed, if he did not comply. And so, Brody agreed to death so that his love would live.

He was given assurance, the word of this man meant little to him but he believed it, he believed she would be safe in a life free from him.

What he did not believe, what he never dreamt would be possible, was that she would figure everything out, that she would come to him, that she would try to save him again.

She had saved him from the brink of death, he was a dead man walking when he fell for her, when she found him, before she saved him from drowning in his dark desperation and grief.

A knocking on the door alerted him that he was not alone.

He parted his lips to speak but found his voice was small, soft, and raw. He cleared his throat twice, swallowing the saliva in his mouth, before he finally found the words.

"Occupied!" he shouted.

"Brody." she simply said.

And he knew then who it was, knew that she had found him, she would try to save him, that she would kill both of them by doing this.

He reached for the door, fingers still sweaty, hands fumbling. He grasped the lock, turned it quickly, and slid back the bolt.

He opened the door only slightly, only enough so he may view her face one last time.

"Carrie, what the fuck are you doing here?" he asked; he came off as rough, as angry even, but he wasn't.

Brody was terrified.

She shouldn't be here, she was risking herself, she could die, they could die together and he didn't want that.

Carrie Mathison deserved a long life, filled with a happiness and a security which he could not provide her.

"Let me in." she said, pushing on the door.

Brody didn't budge.

"Brody, let me in." she repeated firmly.

He stood still.

"You need to get out of here, Carrie." he insisted.

She didn't move, she stood firmly, confidently, beside the half open door.

"It's not safe for you, Carrie, don't you get that?" he asked, a softer voice.

He wanted what was best for her, he only ever wanted what was best for his love.

"I know. I know." she repeated quickly.

"You don't know, Carrie. How the fuck could you know?" Brody asked, his voice rising, the panic which he felt consuming him painfully clear.

"We know that Nazir is planning something, here." she said, but she didn't seem to understand, to know completely, what it was that Nazir was planning. "We've got people surrounding the perimeter, waiting-"

"Carrie, listen to me-" Brody begun.

"You need to leave, Brody." Carrie insisted. "Whatever he's planning, if he knows you're working with us, it could include you."

Brody swallowed tightly, before he exhaled loudly, shakily.

"Do you trust me?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Yes." she answered.

"Go." Brody whispered, lowly. "Leave now and don't look back."

Carrie's eyes flickered slowly over Brody, like she was trying to decipher him, determine his thoughts, understand what it was he was thinking, what it was he was doing here.

And then it hit, and when it hit her it rendered her breathless.

"Carrie, go." Brody said, entirely unaware of her silent revelations.

She took in his sweat, the unsteady shake of his hands, his rigid posture, his uncomfortable almost painful stance, and she knew what he was hiding beneath.

"Oh, god." Carrie gasped.

Her hands, shaky and pale, reached for her mouth which she covered, before the painful cry which rose in the back of her throat could escape her lips.

She shook badly, unable to stand steady, to remain composed.

He reached out for her, to lead her inside the cubicle, but she stepped backwards like she wouldn't let him touch her, wouldn't let his poison seep onto her, like she couldn't stand the sight of him, like she couldn't believe such betrayal existed in love.

"You don't understand, Carrie." Brody said.

She shook her head repeatedly, words still failing her, hands still shaking, breathing still short and unsteady.

"I'm doing it for you." he whispered.

She looked down the hallway, towards two men walking down towards her, and she decided.

Carrie chose Brody.

She chose to risk her life, and his, and she chose to save him, to help him, instead of leaving him with this decision he made alone.

She stepped inside the cubicle, closing it behind her, locking the latch firmly.

Brody watched her as she turned around slowly.

She slowly met his gaze, and as she did there was almost a reluctance.

"Carrie..." Brody whispered.

"We don't have time for that, Brody, we need to get you out of this vest and-" she begun.

"I can't." he murmured.

Her frown deepened.

"I don't understand." she stated.

Brody begun to breathe heavier.

"I don't have it."

She still remained uncertain.

"I don't have the trigger." he painfully whispered.

A small cry escaped Carrie's lips, despite her best attempts to compose herself, to calm herself.

"Don't cry, love." he whispered, touching her cheek softly.

She didn't recoil from the touch, she embraced it, held his hand softly as it stroked her cheek.

"We can- We can remove it, before it detonates." she pleaded.

Brody knew in his heart, his heart which would only beat for her, the truth, the answer, the solution.

"It can't." Brody cried, hot tears flowing down his cheeks.

She shook her head, her hands reaching for his cheeks.

He allowed her to softly wipe these tears away.

"It can't. He designed it- It can't." Brody murmured.

"We can. We can find a way. I'll call for help, Brody, I'll get help." she promised, her hands desperately clinging to his face, to his neck, to anything to which she could hold.

Brody sadly smiled.

"You're right." he lied. "You can get help, you can, but you need to go now."

She nodded.

"You need to find help, now. Call it in, Carrie." Brody said.

More tears fell down their cheeks.

She believed she could find him help, he believed it was the end.

"Okay." she whispered.

Carrie leant forward, carefully, and placed a soft and long kiss to Brody's lips.

He was careful not to let her be too close to him, he should have been careful from the start and he could have kept her from this mess, from the pain which she would surely endure in the minutes to come when she learnt the truth.

The truth, which Nicholas Brody had always been aware of, always known, was that there was no happy ending for him, no soft sunrise, no morning light illuminating his love beside him, no happiness, no life beyond this day.

This was his ending.

His inevitable ending.

He would never let her end like this, for she had so much good to still do, so much life yet to live.

He was out of life, he had nothing left except for Carrie and he knew he was draining her life away, little by little.

She would never admit it, and he could never bring himself to ask her, but Brody just knew that he was killing her, destroying her, taking her light and replacing it with an inconsolable darkness.

She breaks the kiss, her hands fall to his neck, and she gently caresses his cheeks.

There is such love in her gaze, such light, and he almost feels at peace knowing he was able to experience such true, such real, feelings in his lifetime.

"I'll save you," she softly promised.

_She already did._

"I'll get help," she continued.

_He was far past the point of receiving help, for he had already done too much, he was not deserving of help._

"We'll make it through this." she smiled.

_They could never make it through this._

Brody smiled, as he leant forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

He knew time was running short, that he was late, that it was only seconds before his fiery end took him.

"I'll be here." he whispered, and despite how badly he longed for the words to be true, longed to be here when she returned, he knew such a thing would never occur.

She cast one last glance over her love, as he spoke softly to her.

"Goodbye, love." he smiled.

She left him, because she always should have, because she had to, because she deserved more than he could ever offer her, because they never had the chance to be free together.

But he would give his love this.

His love, her golden beauty, her soft voice, her beautiful eyes.

For she was a golden bird, with soft wings, beautiful eyes, a soft tune, and a kind heart.

She sung to him always, watched him with kind eyes, loved him with her kind heart and she spoke to him softly as he was lifted away, she carried him on her wings for he was never strong enough on his own.

After his end claimed him, once he was free of the pain which bound him to suffering, the golden bird was also freed.

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_A/N: _

_Yet another one shot, of Brody & Carrie.  
I hope that you enjoy reading this.  
I know, some aspects of it are a little unrealistic but it was an idea that came to me, and I had to write it down and see where it took me and it led me here. I don't know why, I keep killing off Brody and Carrie in these one-shots.  
I definitely do not want this to happen in the show, but for some reason it continues to happen in these one-shots &  
will probably happen a few more times. Still, I hope you find some enjoyment in my story._

_Also, I do have some Brody and Carrie happy one-shots in the works, and as I mentioned (I think I did)  
I have a proper length Brody and Carrie story running around in my mind, nothing concrete yet but one day._

_As always, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy._

_X_


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